Burst Bubbles
by J3D13
Summary: In the same story 'verse as A Bit Injured. "By the time Carlisle walked his sons back to the house Esme had managed to get the little room dry and was feeling calm enough to feel sympathy for the boys, who by all accounts looked very soggy and pathetic." Warning: Mild Spanking. Don't like, don't read.


**A/N: ** Hello, readers! While slowly but surely writing the next chapters of Eddie B. Goode and Edward A. Cullen I produced this little nugget. I hope you like it.

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**Burst Bubbles**

"It's beautiful!"

"It looks noisy."

It was Esme's newest purchase. The crate it came in called it a washing machine, but it didn't look anything like the washboard and crank they used to own. Rosalie and Esme sent away for it two months ago and even Edward was excited to see its arrival this morning.

Their mother had ordered the boys to build an extra room off of the garage just to house this appliance. For that reason alone it had to be something work checking out.

Edward had tried to get a better look at the thing while Esme was putting it together this morning but she'd shooed him and Emmett away before they could get their hands on any of the parts.

No matter. He'd swiped the instructions as soon as his mother left for her Saturday afternoon grocery shop and was now examining the schematics, while Emmett poked and prodded at the actual model.

"The advert says this thing will cut a woman's workload in half… ha!" Edward scoffed at the smiling blond on the cover. "They should see our laundry piles."

"This thing is a beaut. Look how white and shiny it is. Look at all these buttons and levers." Emmett pointed out a pulley attached to some kind of motor. "I bet this one turns it on."

"Don't touch it," Edward reminded him importantly. "It's brand new."

"Aw, I'm not hurting anything." His brother lifted up the lid to a large, empty washtub. "And it's supposed to be used, isn't it? What's this spinny thing for?"

"We're not supposed to be playing with it," Edward chided even as he came closer to observe the 'spinny' thing.

He'd never seen a mechanism like that before and it wasn't very often he came across something he didn't already know. It looked like a cross between a propeller and a fan blade. Flipping through the pages quickly, he consulted the guide. _The agitator._ Interesting.

"Let's turn it on," Emmett said.

Edward stopped him short of reaching the pulley. "Let's not. This is complicated machinery. You have no idea how it works."

"Y_ou_ have no idea how it works." His brother jutted his chin out. "I know exactly what to do to make this thing go."

"Esme is out. She wouldn't want us playing with it," Edward protested half-heartedly.

The excuse sounded pitiful to his own ears. 'Esme is out' was usually their excuse for engaging in mischief.

As if sensing his weakening defenses, Emmett tested him further with an encouraging smile.

"We're not going to _play_ with it. We're going to _wash_ something. We're not being bad if we're washing something. That's what it's for."

"Well…"

His older brother looked so earnest and trustworthy Edward didn't have a leg to stand on. Darn it, he wanted to see what that pulley did too! Anyway, there wasn't any harm to him in letting _Emmett_ pull it. His brother wasn't a newborn anymore so Edward was no longer liable for his screw ups. He was now free to adopt the role of younger brother and innocent bystander.

And let the record show that he had told Emmett not to touch it.

Edward shrugged. "Fine. I don't care what you do."

Like a fish to bait, his older brother shouted in triumph and dashed for the garage.

Edward did a double take when Emmett didn't zip in the direction of the house but before he could wonder any further, his brother came back with the item to be washed in his hands.

"Emmett, this machine washes _clothes_," Edward pointed out with barely concealed derision.

The older boy lifted the lid on the wash tub and put the muffler inside. "It fits."

"That's not the point." Edward sighed wearily. "It's meant to wash _laundry_. Only items of _clothing_ should go inside."

His brother turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. _Then why don't they call it a _clothes_ washing machine, smart guy?_

That mental question stopped Edward long enough for Emmett to slip into the kitchen. The boy came back with a large bowl of water and dumped it in after the muffler. Then a second. And a third.

Edward peeked inside again. The tub was now filled nearly to the brim and the muffler had sunk to the bottom. Emmett was more likely to rust the car part than he was to clean it.

"Now comes the soap." His brother spotted a lone box of Ajax on the shelf. "How much should I use?"

Living vicariously through Emmett could be very entertaining, Edward decided then and there. His brother had a penchant for destruction that his own sense of self- preservation would never allow him to achieve alone. As long as Emmett's hands were the only ones caught in the cookie jar, Edward maximized his mischief making potential while simultaneously minimizing the risk to his person. This realization had a strange effect on him. Everything was now fair game. As long as Emmett believed he came to the idea himself, that is. Some maneuvering was necessary.

"Only a tiny bit of soap," Edward ordered in his haughtiest tone. Emmett hated it when he acted bossy. "Not even a palm full."

_Awww,_ _he's no fun_, his brother thought. _What's the point of washing if there's no suds?_

"C'mon, Ed. That won't do it," Emmett said out loud. "You want it to be really clean, doncha? What if I only pour half the box?"

Edward made a show of straightening out the directions. "Let see what the manual suggests…"

"C'mon…" Emmett ripped the pamphlet out of his hands and tore it to pieces. "Where's your sense of adventures? We're scientists carrying out the first experiment on washing machines known to man. We don't need stinkin' directions."

Thoroughly pleased with the turn of events, Edward shrugged and feigned indifference. "Fine. Do what you want. It's _your_ laundry."

Heaps of white power were dumped into the water.

"Now we put the lid down and move this thing here." Emmett pulled what looked like a rolling pin attached to a crank to the side of the tank. "Then you pull on the chain. Give me a count down, Ed!"

"No."

"Okay. 5…4…3…"

Edward tapped his foot impatiently. More than likely clothes washing themselves wasn't nearly as exciting to see as it sounded but the sooner he could satisfy his curiosity the sooner he could move on.

"2…. 1- Go!"

Emmett yanked on the pulley and the motor sputtered to a start.

Edward was right, it was loud. A terrifying clanging started almost immediately afterwards.

Soapy water began splashing over the sides of the tub and onto the floor.

"Uh oh," Emmett pried the lid back open. "That's the muffler making that noise. I think I put too much water in."

"You think?" Edward dogged a wave of suds as it splattered at his feet. "Stop that racket before the neighbors call the police."

"I'll get it out." Without rolling up his sleeves, Emmett stuck his whole hand in the tub. An even larger gush of water was pushed out of the tub and down the sides of their new machine.

"You idiot," Edward chided. "Stop the motor first."

He looked for the off switch but didn't see it anywhere on the face of the machine. Then, between Emmett's shout and the soap on the floor he nearly slipped and fell.

"Crap!" His brother cried, still elbow deep in the sloshing water. "I think I accidentally bent the muffler around the spinny thing. Now I can't get my hand out."

Edward nearly cursed. How many times had they warned Emmett about his strength?

"I'm stuck, Edward. I'm really stuck, man."

"Don't move," he ordered the older boy, who was frantically yanking on his stuck arm with his free one. "You'll pull out the agitator and ruin the machine."

"This thing's gonna eat my fingers, and you're worried about the machine?" Emmett yelped. "Turn it off!"

"I don't know how!" Edward shouted back. "There's no off switch and you ripped up the manual!"

By this time the entire laundry room floor was covered in at least a half inch of water.

The younger boy splashed back over to the motor and yanked on the pulley again but that only seemed to make the machine move faster.

"Get me out!" Emmett hollered. "Now or I'm tearing this thing apart."

Edward growled to himself. Seeing no other alternative he went back to the tub, knocked Emmett's second arm out of the way and stuck his head in the tub.

He could see where the base of the metal was bent around the agitator. Two of Emmet's fingers and his shirt cuff were caught between the two. Cracks were splintering the sides of the machine from his brother's efforts to relieve himself.

Edward carefully pried the metal away, but as soon as Emmett felt himself being loosened, he yanked his arm upwards. It hit Edward forcefully in the throat during its assent and the boy opened his mouth involuntarily, swallowing a mouthful of soapy water.

He scrambled away from the still active machine as quickly as he could, still spluttering and coughing. He exchanged a panicked look with Emmett and they both quickly slipped and slid out the door, through the garage and into the woods with the motor still going in the background.

XXXXXXXXXXX

An angry high pitched shriek alerted Carlisle to trouble before he could even set his brief case down in the foyer. Shedding his coat and hat, he quickly made haste for his wife's new _laundry room_. He skidded to a halt and nearly fell on his seat due to the volume of soap and water found on the floor.

His wife stood in the middle of it, futilely swiping at the mess with an already soaking mop.

Clearly there'd been a malfunction with the machine. Carlisle always thought there was a point in doing things the traditional way. Whoever heard of clothes washing themselves? But his wife had been so eager to have this new appliance that he couldn't say no. Now clearly wasn't the time for 'I told you so'.

"What happened?" He ventured in as innocent a voice as he could muster.

"The boys," Esme growled not looking up from her task. "I'm going to throttle them."

The doctor stepped towards both his wife and the machine cautiously. "Are you sure this isn't the result of some sort of malfunction-"

"I've been shooing them away from this room all day. " She spun around to face him with one finger pointed, as if he were one of her miscreant offspring. "I go to leave for two hours. 'Stay out of trouble, I say.' 'Go outside and play.' And I come home to this!"

Carlisle slowly reached out to gently release the mop from his wife's death grip.

"I'm sorry, love. I'll clean this up. We'll order you a new one and-"

"No," Esme interrupted him. "Don't. I'm the only one allowed to set foot in this laundry room until further notice."

"What would you like me to do then?"

With no hesitation his mate said, "I want you to go out there, find those boys and bring them back here so I can wring their necks."

With one last look at his wife hunched over in her efforts to dry up the soggy floor, Carlisle parted for the garage, picking up what was left of a shirt sleeve on his way out.

It wasn't hard to pick up his sons' trail. If the smell of powdered Ajax weren't so strong, he would have had plenty of wet soapy foot prints to follow.

They led him far into the woods, miles past their home. Carlisle finally stopped at a rushing stream.

Suds floated with the current along with branches and leaves. His eldest's head soon popped out from under the water.

"The more I rinse, the soapier I get," the large boy complained in lieu of a greeting.

Carlisle shook his head. "Emmett, come out of there right now. Where's your brother?"

"Dad," a second voice beckoned from behind him.

Arms crossed, Carlisle was set to give Edward his 'stern dad' look, but quickly wilted at his son's distress.

He walked towards his youngest. "Edward?"

His youngest started speaking in a rush. "Dad, I swallowed some soap and I can't make it stop. I can't-"

The boy's explanation was interrupted as a belch left his mouth followed by a large soap bubble.

Edward's belch bubble popped in front of them. Carlisle barked a laugh.

"It's not funny!" His youngest hiccupped, producing three more bubbles. "Make it stop, Dad."

"Carlisle, I'm still soapy," Emmett whined, walking up to them. "And my favorite shirt is ruined."

"I don't feel good," Edward cried miserably, hiccupping again.

Carlisle lifted his eyes heavenward as he steered both weepy boys towards home at a human pace.

By the time Carlisle walked his sons back to the house Esme had managed to get the little room dry and was feeling calm enough to feel sympathy for the boys, who by all accounts looked very soggy and pathetic. She didn't actually wring their necks, although she threatened to do so several times while fetching them clean clothes and towels. After both boys got showered, Edward spent the rest of the afternoon lying down and spitting foam into a bucket Esme provided for him. Emmett, for his part, helped Esme move the broken washing machine out to the curb.

Carlisle let them rest after their ordeal, but as soon as the sun fully set, he showed up at Edward's bedroom door with a nervous looking Emmett in toe.

Carlisle sat in the chair at Edward's desk and let the boys occupy the bed. "It seems my young men have a sudden fascination with housework."

"We just wanted to see what it did." Emmett hung his head.

"You couldn't wait for your mother?"

"No," Emmett mumbled again. "She wouldn't have let us touch anything."

Carlisle forced down a smile. "And with good reason, don't you think? A muffler?"

"We wanted to make it shiny," his oldest played with the bedspread.

"_You_ wanted to make it shiny," Edward countered.

"Neither one of you had any business being in the laundry room. You know you weren't to touch the machine. Furthermore your mother told you to stay out of trouble before she left. And what do I always tell you before I leave for work?"

"Listen to your mother," both boys said together.

"Did you do a good job listening to either of us today?"

"No, sir."

Carlisle nodded. "Then I think you're both due a spanking, right?"

Emmett nodded forlornly while Edward raised a finger to be observed. "I respectfully disagree. Let the record show that I told Emmett not to do it."

Emmett snarled at his brother from his side of the bed.

"Oh, I'm sure you said the words," Carlisle reached over to grab hold of Edward's wrist and pull him stand at his feet. "But did you mean them?"

Standing before him, his son insulted expression faltered. "Dad…"

Carlisle gave a slight shake. "Look me in the eye and tell me that you tried your best to convince Emmett to leave your mother's machine alone and that you only stayed to watch because you were concerned for his safety."

His youngest eyes flicked up to his, before a full pout formed on his face. "…But I don't feel good."

"I'm sure you don't." Carlisle pulled the now compliant boy over his knee. "That's what happens when you play with things you aren't supposed to."

He slipped a finger in the waistband of his son's pajama bottoms and brought them down to his thighs. The recent introduction of this type of sleep wear made tasks like these infinitely easier.

The boy wasn't wearing anything underneath so Carlisle immediately began to pepper the bare backside before him with quick, stinging slaps.

He didn't set out to be harsh with the punishment since natural consequences had done most of the teaching for him.

He gave Edward ten sharp spanks to the center of his behind.

"We don't horse around with appliances and we don't goad our brothers into doing so," he instructed calmly.

"I'm sorry," Edward whined and squirmed a bit. "I won't."

His son cried out when he applied three additional smacks to each thigh, ending the mild correction.

"Any deliberate naughtiness like what we've just discussed is going to earn you a spanking. Alright, Edward?"

Edward nodded.

He patted the teary-eyed boy on the back. "Alright. Pull your pants back up and then you may go tell Mother you're sorry."

"Okay. Yessir." His youngest obeyed and stood with a slight wince. He hiccupped and a bubble the size of a marble escaping his mouth.

Carlisle gave him a small smile. "That's the smallest one yet. I bet you're feeling better."

Edward gave him a watery smile back and started from the room. "Yeah, but if she asks I'm still going to tell mother it was Emmett who dumped the whole box of soap in the machine. I _did_ tell him only one handful."

"You know what, Carlisle?" Emmett started towards him once his brother left, already shucking his flannels down. "With Edward around we don't need a washing machine."

Carlisle pulled the second boy over his knee with ease. "Why that, Emmett?"

Emmett shifted to look at him. "'Cause this family only needs one agitator."

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**A/N:** I don't know anything about 1930s washing machines besides what I briefly watched on youtube so please don't be mad at me if it's inaccurate. Also, I don't know where Rose was during this story. You can make that up if you wish. Toodles!


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